


Freeing Darkness with a Storm

by KitsuneGirl911



Series: Witchy Wendi [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: M/M, There Is A Desk Involved, This Is Serious Crack Of The Highest Caliber Right Here, Weird Blood Wedding, Wendigo!Hannibal - Freeform, Will Figures It Out, witch!Will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-05-30
Packaged: 2018-03-09 06:42:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3240071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KitsuneGirl911/pseuds/KitsuneGirl911
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will is a witch, unbeknownst to the others, and he realizes Hannibal will become a wendigo very soon. And Will doesn't want their deathly dance to end, he doesn't want to lose Hannibal's rational mind to a self-destructive beast. So he finds a way to solve both their problems.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Excuse the horrid title, haha. I am on a roll here with these absurdly quickly finished pieces. I regret nothing! Hannibal's office desk is second only to his office's ladder. I mean seriously, DAT LADDER. (Oh crap I sorta ship Desk/Ladder now what the actual hell?!?!) I am also not sorry for writing all of the "they finally get to-freaking-gether" fics with odd au-ish themes. There will be more. I hope. Anyway, this is a oneshot for now but I may write a related-ish sequel. Enjoy!  
> On a side note, the working title for this was "Witchy Wendi". Yesssss.

“So you've been eating them.” Will was stating the truth; there was no trace of a question in his tone. “That explains the weird aura you have…” Will sat across from Hannibal in the psychiatrist’s office during his usual appointment time. Instead of any apprehension Hannibal looked equal parts delighted and curious.

“What aura are you referring to, Will?” he asked mildly and thus avoided an outright confirmation or denial for the moment. Will snorted at his friend's obvious evasion but gestured vaguely at the other man’s head with one hand. The other lay perfectly at ease on the chair’s arm.

“You have a rather impressive rack of antlers on occasion.” Hannibal's face expressed concern and confusion, but Will could tell the man was inwardly preening at the compliment.

All the same, he asked, “I’m afraid I do not understand, Will. Are you experiencing visual hallucinations centered around me?” Hannibal’s face was earnest and he truly wanted to hear what Will had to say; Will could tell even through the ever-present mask the psychiatrist used.

“I _thought_ I was, right up until I realized you were the Chesapeake Ripper. Oh, stop that. You and your ego might need to get a room…” Will dismissed Hannibal offhandedly with exaggerated eye rolling.

Hannibal had had not only a pleasant and long-awaited surprise from Will this evening, but with the compliment added in, odd as it was, Hannibal would rather he and the profiler use the room themselves. Hannibal let his gaze grow heavy to see Will blush and fidget.

“You… Uh,” Will cleared his throat and his gaze skittered around the office for purchase he couldn't find, “When someone eats enough human flesh they turn into something less than human themselves. And I never suspected you were the type for lifelong willing cannibalism of that particular magnitude. Probably should have, really.”

“That sounded suspiciously like a compliment Will,” Hannibal noted aloud with fond amusement, “but that does not give me any information I did not already possess.” Will’s flush was replaced with almost shocking white, and then he looked faintly green.

“You've nearly become a wendigo, Hannibal.”

“I'm familiar with the term; you are referring to the Algonquian mythological figure?” Hannibal shifted in his seat to cross one leg over the other comfortably.

“Yeah.” Will nodded sullenly, in blatant counterpoint to Hannibal’s good-natured cheer. “And if you need proof I can show you. Do you have a mirror?” Brimming with curiosity now, Hannibal stood and led Will to a large but tastefully placed gilt-frame mirror hanging on a nearby wall.

The mirror had obviously been placed there to offer Hannibal a view of his surroundings as he sat at his desk, and to a passing glance’s observation, appeared to be a mere painting. Hannibal noted how much Will trembled and fought not to bolt. The profiler’s hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, arms almost forcibly lax. Will took a deep breath and shot Hannibal a deeply apologetic look before he reached out shaky fingertips to touch the mirror’s pristinely polished surface. Hannibal was fascinated to see the surface ripple as Will did so. Then Will took a step back; Hannibal must discover the truth with his own eyes, not by his direct guidance.

“Look.”

Hannibal did so without hesitation and couldn't help the soft sound of surprise from leaving his mouth. They truly were magnificent antlers, black bone that was sharp as blades at its points, and large enough to be singularly imposing. Hannibal spared a look askance at Will to see what his patient was beneath his skin, as he was sure the mirror had somehow been made into some sort of lens of truth. Will was expecting him to look, if the determined set of his hunched shoulders was any indication. While Hannibal's aura was a nigh tangible vision, Will’s was all smoke and storm.

“What are you, dear Will?” Hannibal pressed gently, and Will was only marginally shocked to hear both the lack of judgment and the endearment laced into his question.

“For simplicity's sake: a witch. I have the cursed gift of magic.” Will bared his teeth in his nervous way that spoke not of a smile’s comfort and easy amusement but their polar opposites. “But being a wendigo will ruin you, Hannibal.” The psychiatrist turned back to the enchanted mirror to admire his striking image once more. Will clearly was upset by this development, and Hannibal wanted to believe his distress was borne of hatred for his inhuman status but…

“I presume I cannot control myself once I get too close to that line. You fear for the lives of all we know.” Hannibal cocked his head quizzically, “But there is more to it than that, isn't there Will? You clearly had a plan coming into your session today…”

Will grinned ruefully.

“You see me just as I can see you, Hannibal. I have a proposition for you: I know a way to force you over that line instantly and thereby let you keep your control. True wendigo are slaves to their nature, unable to hide their antlers or their true forms under a human skin anymore. You will be killed, inevitably, if you change naturally.”

“You have cast your lure, and I appreciate its beauty… But something is never offered for nothing. What do you wish in return for this help? Do you wish to see me in your debt? To stop killing? I can assure you that I won't be a slave to anything, myself _or_ any man.” Hannibal moved in close to Will, and in this proximity he could smell that fevered sickly sweet scent trickling from Will’s body in waves. He now knew it to be the scent of Will's barely concealed power. Hannibal also felt the solid form of his own power weighing on his shoulders reassuringly, and it was a heady combination indeed. “What do you want in return, dear Will?”

The profiler made solid blazing eye contact as he firmly stated, “More.” As soon as the word fell from his lips Will wished he had picked anything else, any phrase that wouldn't have appealed to a deep part of Hannibal’s greedy wendigo nature. Will had thought he had felt palpable lust fill the very air around them before; he had no air any longer as Hannibal leaned in and stole it from him. Will surrendered to the kiss immediately and with fervor, his own power recognizing a complimenting strength innately. He whimpered under the punishing force of Hannibal's lips and tongue and too-sharp teeth.

He tasted the cut opening upon his lip before he even felt it, and he knew if he was going to save the man he couldn't live without, it had to be soon. If Hannibal took much more human-based sustenance into himself the line would be crossed naturally and his other, rational half would be lost. Will wove his blood with the spell he’d painstakingly researched and carded his hands through Hannibal's hair to keep himself grounded during this storm of magic and lust. Hannibal paused for but the barest of seconds as he noticed that fevered sweetness taste tart on his fairly serpentine tongue, and he abandoned all pretense to suck at Will's bleeding full lower lip hungrily. Will's hips started a silent chant all their own, calling out to Hannibal for attention. And Hannibal was nothing if not a gentleman. A muscle laden thigh pressed up for Will to grind against eagerly, and they pressed closer still as if trying to fuse and live this moment as one.

It wasn't enough.

“Nnh, Hannibal… Not like this.” Will stressed his point by tugging at Hannibal's waistcoat insistently. A dark chuckle rumbled through his nerve endings all the way down to the tips of his toes at that, and the spell was taking hold; Hannibal was able to pull away from his addiction. Well, his previous addiction.

Will was now the center of Hannibal's universe and Will knew this was a supremely idiotic idea what with blood, sex, and inhuman magic all involved simultaneously… But he couldn't bring himself to care about anything but getting Hannibal inside him as quickly as possible. Thankfully Hannibal had the same goal and thus they reached their mutual peak rutting against Hannibal's desk, with Will laid out as a pale feast before an ink-skinned beast.

The air crackled with static and ozone, the jagged sections of what was left of their shattered souls melding and fusing in ways that could never be undone. Will clawed Hannibal's back hard enough to draw chilled blood and those needle teeth sank deep into the juncture of Will's neck and shoulder with triumphant finality.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, my fic hand slipped. (Keep your fic hand strong!) Here's chapter two. I have some vague ideas about what I want out of this piece, and I was wondering if there was anything YOU guys want for me to add to this one? Any suggestions are welcome: plot, scenes, etc. would be awesome, yo. Seriously, I'm pretty open to just about anything, and I'll try to work at least part of your request into this. I love prompts like whoa, if you hadn't guessed by now. Actually, any prompts/requesty things for other new fics you've got, send em my way. I can't promise I will write them all, but I'd love to try~!

When they came back to themselves, their bodies were hopelessly entwined atop Hannibal's desk, just as their minds now were similarly entangled. Getting magically bonded to his now fully wendigo psychiatrist wasn't something Will had ever imagined could happen. But real life has a way of being less believable than fiction, and nothing could undo this truth.

Hannibal was content to stay curled around Will indefinitely. He could tell something rare and precious had happened between them, and used the time before Will inevitably addressed the issue to bask in the unexpected feelings. Hannibal wasn't one for self-pity, but he had to admit a certain lack of real hope of ever finding a lifemate. To have such raw power surging through every fiber of his being, both physically and mentally, and to be somehow connected to an equal power was a heady combination. Hannibal wanted to taste Will again. The psychiatrist noticed that his hunger had lessened to a near sated level instead of his usual burning ache. But Will always made him greedy...

“Hannibal…” Will warned the wendigo tiredly, “we have to talk.”

“Can it wait?” Hannibal continued mouthing at the pale addictive column of Will's still arched throat. Will wouldn't be wooed to distraction so easily.

“No. I'm guessing you noticed the link that was forged between us?”

“Of course, Will. It is a quite fascinating feeling, having you in my mind in a more literal sense. I can also tell there must be some downsides to this new arrangement.”

“That's a mild way of putting it,” Will scoffed, “We're going to have to maintain a certain proximity for a while, to allow the bond to settle.” Will rubbed a hand over his eyes. “From what I've heard, it's fairly excruciating to ignore. I think we can be at most a few feet away from each other; we don't have to be touching. But still, hard to explain.”

Hannibal was listening to every word, but was much more interested in touching Will everywhere than being verbally responsive. To be polite, Hannibal allowed Will a noncommittal hum.

“You know, this desk isn't as comfortable once the afterglow wears off,” Will stated bluntly, taking advantage of Hannibal's chivalry to get the hard wood edge to stop digging into his lower back. He didn't quite expect just exactly _how_ Hannibal would go about this task.

Will was abruptly placed in a princess hold and lifted effortlessly into Hannibal’s arms with a flustered squawk.

“Hannibal, what the hell! I didn't mean you had to sacrifice your back for mine!” Hannibal chuckled fondly down at the profiler in his arms as he walked over to the office’s settee.

“It's honestly no trouble, dear Will. I hardly think your slight weight will strain me at all.” Here Hannibal sat down with his new mate secure in his arms, arranging them both on the settee and he gave a chiding look at Will as he added, “You really need to eat better, Will.”

Will ignored the chastisement and focused on Hannibal’s first comment with incredulous curiosity.

“You're kidding. There's no way you can just not feel a grown man's weight.”

“Just as there is no way for magic to exist?” Hannibal stated pointedly, cheerily rubbing his nose against Will’s cheek for good measure.

And damn if that wasn't a sexy thought. The way Hannibal spoke, this ability wasn't anything new to him. It would certainly make being a serial killer easier; what with all the manual effort involved in moving corpses around. Or possibly other bodies, in much different contexts. Will was suddenly struck with the mental image of Hannibal fucking him roughly, without even bracing himself against a wall. Will felt Hannibal’s dick suddenly twitch eagerly into his hip. Will sincerely hoped Hannibal hadn't seen that.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea, Will…” Hannibal cooed, sounding more sweet and doting than Will thought he had any right to be in this situation.

“Don't you dare-” he began grumpily, but his breath left him in a moan as he was lifted up yet again as Hannibal stood, and he was made to settle with his legs wrapped around Hannibal’s waist as easily as if Hannibal were manhandling a rag doll.

“Do you want me to stop, dear Will?” Hannibal teased with a challenging lilt, knowing quite well he would get what he wanted from his Will.

“If you don't fuck me now I will fucking curse your favorite suit.”

Hannibal hummed contentedly around the mouthful of his mate’s flesh he’d taken, fingers already spreading Will to guide his cock into Will’s wildly fluttering heat.

“Such a wanton little thing. And all for me…” he whispered tenderly into Will's ear as the man writhed in his arms with beautiful abandon. With what mental acuity Will still clung to, the profiler marveled at the stark contrast between his bonded’s sweet words and his deep, punishing thrusts that only grew faster and harsher as he continued, “So greedy for my cock, aren't you? You need me to fill you: my kills and my cum, just for you. I'd give you _anything_ my sweetling, you need but ask.”

“More-!” Will panted, using his grip on Hannibal's broad shoulders to give a better angle to the savage pounding his ass was eagerly receiving. He clenched around Hannibal’s impressive girth and wailed as his prostate was nailed unerringly. “Please, Hannibal; don't stop!”

“The things you do to me,” Hannibal murmured, breathless now from the pleasure wracking his frame so in crashing, torturous waves, “I don't think I could ever stop, dear one.” Hannibal's movements grew frantic and Will could do nothing but hold on for dear life as his bonded growled in a passionate promise, “ _Never_.”

The rush of cool seed within him sent Will over the edge again and his magic spilled over the edges of his conscious control. Hannibal grunted as he felt his body jerk forward again with the intensity of the second ejaculation Will’s power greedily forced out of him. Oh yes, he would never let this delightful creature ever be taken from him. Hannibal vowed to tear apart any challengers with his bare hands, leaving their leftover scraps for Jack to find long after he'd fed his too-skinny mate all the choice cuts their otherwise useless lives provided.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I write in the Slice of Life style, if you guys hadn't noticed. I only realized the other day when I was reading a fiction structure book, pfft. All that means it that I rarely have a clear beginning, middle, end path in my writing. (The 'What Monsters Fear' series has clear story arcs and overarching plot, so that one is a bit different at the moment.) So I just write incidents rather than rigid 'journeys'.  
> What I'm saying is that any suggestions, no matter how small, you guys have will keep my stories going, y'all! I love the challenge of working them in. n_n *teehee*  
> And yes, llfrozensunll, I am so going to write the awkwardly hilarious fallout reactions of the Science Bros. Jack pretty much has his set 'stock reactions' to life, lol. It's funny how you can almost literally calculate what Jack will do in any given situation... (I study people, leave me alone. *fidgets* ...Oh crap I'm real life Will Graham again. I honestly can't tell if I'm acting like him because I was just in his head for writing, or if this is all me. *facepalm*)

Will knew Hannibal was an absolutely unrepentant asshole; to see the manipulative psychiatrist’s own weapon turned on himself felt like divine justice of the most righteous kind. If only he hadn't been dragged into it as well, Will would've laughed like the loon Alana thought he was. The tinny ring of the phone in Hannibal's office blared its unfortunately awkward interruption like a siren.

Hannibal paused after finishing through with one last long slide into his new mate and Will managed to pant out, “You should get that; s’probably important.” Hannibal's reluctance to answer his still happily screaming phone made Will skeptical. “You are bordering on being rude, Dr. Lecter.” Will chanced eye contact.

Hannibal's expression was the closest to honest embarrassment the profiler had even seen it. He still valiantly tried ignoring the phone. Will could clearly hear the long dark litany of cursing in the back of Hannibal’s mind, courtesy of their new link.

“Impressive,” Will wasn't sure himself whether he was being sarcastic or utterly truthful with that acerbic comment, “You do know I can understand French, right?” The extremely creative swears being created in Hannibal's head were suddenly lacking any French words; Hannibal didn't even miss a beat. Okay, that _was_ impressive...

With a deeply long-suffering sigh, Hannibal reached over and answered his phone.

“Hello?”

Will was fully aware he had a golden opportunity to exact his petty revenge; Will flexed himself around the length still buried balls-deep inside of him. Of course he timed it just so, and Hannibal had to pause before he was able to answer the question asked of him. “Yes, Will is here.”

Damn. Not only had Hannibal been able to pass off the pause as himself checking to see if Will was indeed present, but there was only one person who would be looking for both of them at this time of night. Double damn. Will joined in on the whole swearing silently thing, using all the French he knew (really, anyone who had thought German was an angry language clearly must've never heard a pissed off Frenchman before) to annoy Hannibal as he finished assuring Jack they would be at the crime scene shortly. It was literally his own lover’s fault that they were going to have to drive to God-knows-where at the ass end of night, and then explain why they were unable to leave each other's side. The sudden twitching of Hannibal's left eyebrow made Will think about swearing harder.

“I can't believe you,” Will grit out as evenly as he could, not one second after Hannibal had ended the call with Jack.

“To be fair, I had not anticipated this turn of events when I killed that particular man.” Hannibal looked like all he wanted to do was bang his head on his own fancy desk repeatedly. Will decided it was a very satisfying look for the wendigo. But then Hannibal's stoic control reemerged and he rationalized, “I _was_ rather hungry, though; it simply could not be helped…”

“You are practically whining like a petulant toddler right now, Hannibal. Couldn't you have just, I don't know- _waited_ or something?” Will was beyond incredulous. He decided that credulousness was not even physically possible when Hannibal carefully pulled out of him in retaliation.

“How much do you know about my kind, Will?”

“Of wendigo? Not much, actually.” Will reluctantly started to clean himself up so he could get dressed. With his luck he'd find all his clothes minus one sock. It was that kind of night.

Hannibal tilted his head to one side as he considered something (Will caught a definite ‘not rude on purpose, this time’ sentiment from that set of thoughts) and then nodded sagely as if he had just discovered the universe’s one truth.

“It seems we are both quite in the dark about each other's otherworldly heritage. Until you helped me as you did tonight, I had not been adequately satiated for months.”

“Huh.”

It wasn't the most eloquent of responses, but Hannibal took what he could get. And more.

It was only as the pair was finally fully dressed and more or less presentable that their situation hit home again.

“Just walk close to me; I am _so_ not looking forward to getting in your car. Maybe if one of us runs around the front of the car the separation from being on opposite sides won't be as horrible. Here's hoping.” Will toasted to nothing with an invisible glass. He could seriously use some whiskey right about now. Forget ‘some’- a _lot_.

Hannibal smiled and offered his arm to Will, who snorted at his bonded's old-fashionedness but accepted anyway. Walking like this was more believable cover should they be caught. Will didn't see Hannibal as the hands-holding type.

“Hannibal, I can hear you thinking about this being a wonderful first date; stop that.”

_+_

They had dithered around getting ready for just long enough to take up the time Hannibal should have been using to discover this bleak little hole in the wall. Will didn't doubt the wendigo had planned for that.

“I refuse to clutch at your arm like a Victorian maiden at this crime scene. I think you will agree that even Jack would have questions about that.”

Hannibal very much tried not to pout; it was a most unbecoming behavior after all.

“Very well. Shall we?”

It turned out their plan of bolting out of Hannibal’s Bentley and back to each other was as pleasant as the action had been getting _into_ said car. Will fared slightly better than his bonded; dealing with his magic borne migraines regularly finally had a plus side.

“I certainly hope that this condition is not permanent. How long did you say it would last?” Hannibal asked, rubbing at the bridge of his nose to soothe some of the painful feeling.

“I didn't,” Will stated morosely, “It's probably best that you don't know.”

“Will!” Jack shouted at his usual volume when trying to get someone's attention; said profiler and psychiatrist shared a mutual wince. And this was at a distance. Will wondered, not for the first time, if Jack had some sort of hearing impairment. It would explain a lot, honestly. Could he truly be that oblivious to his ramped-up volume? Will hoped not, but he caught Hannibal mentally shaking his head in exasperation, and admitted that his boss really _was_ that clueless.

“I need to know: Is this the Ripper?”

“Hello to you too, Jack,” Will griped, before taking a deep breath and stepping to where he could see the scene Hannibal had made for him. And it was clearly meant as a gift for him alone; every carefully placed slice oozed twisted love.

Will was glad for his mental link now as it allowed him to project a vehement _Really?_ to a clearly pleased Hannibal.

Out loud he said, “It's the Ripper.”

“This one feels different.”

Will allowed himself an eye roll since he was facing away from Jack.

“It's a declaration of love. The Ripper intends to court someone.”

Jack took a double take at the elaborately displayed corpse.

“Will,” Jack spoke in his firmest ‘you are being unreasonable again’ voice and dismissed the idea, “There may be roses with… eyeballs placed in them, but that doesn't mean-”

“They're red roses though; the eyeballs mean he's been watching this person.” Will paused and cleared his throat awkwardly, “Not to mention the sexual nature of the mutilations.” He could both see and sense his wendigo lover’s salacious leer way too much right now.

Jack looked the display over contemplatively.

“He’s never bothered with that before…”

Will nodded spasmodically.

“Yes, great. Can I leave now?” Jack turned around to stare at Will’s flushing face shrewdly. It reminded Will of a stereotypical suspicious father. Why was Jack only ever astute when he was desperately needed to not be?

“No,” was Jack’s blunt as ever reply, “Just suck up your embarrassment and look, Will!”

Naturally, this outburst brought the attention of the others waiting on the sidelines.

“Will, I never took you for such a prude…” Beverly taunted with a light smirk.

“Well come on, it's not like you believe that Will has ever even made so much as one sexual innuendo in his life!” Brian snickered.

“Well there was that one time- Wait no, never mind.”

“Price, you're not helping,” Will muttered quietly, wishing above anything to have a giant eagle swoop down and carry him off in its talons. That would certainly be less excruciating than suffering through this good-natured teasing. And people wondered why he wasn't very social…?

Will absentmindedly skittered away from everyone, forgetting temporarily that said group included one Hannibal Lecter. A lot of things happened simultaneously. Will and Hannibal clutched their heads and hissed in a shared pain that grew to agony as concerned hands unknowingly pulled the pair further apart. Will watched through watering eyes as, in what seemed like slow motion, Hannibal noticed that it was Jack who had reached Will first. Will barely had time for dread to set in before his enraged bonded sprung into furious action against the boorish human who had the utter gall to take his lifemate away from him. When Jack was tackled off of him, Will’s headache lifted immediately and that granted him some much needed clarity. Hannibal wasn't so lucky.

“Hannibal-!” Will gasped as he struggled to restrain an angrily struggling wendigo determined to protect his own. It would have been endearing had Will not actually been afraid for Jack’s life. Hannibal was snarling and growling like a demon, and Will was losing his grip. He had no choice; either he ousted his own status or Hannibal’s much more illegal one. His bonded's strength and fury forced Will to expend enough magic as to be visible, but Will’s instinctual panic boosted his resolve. He could not let this man go. Neither by his own folly or another's misguided machinations… Never. Will had saved the wendigo he loved for a reason; he'd be damned if he gave up now!

A curling grey storm of light struck up around Will and he clutched at his bonded harder. Gradually the tension in Hannibal's body bled out of him and reality fairly slapped the psychiatrist in the face with a sobering blow. No one else moved a muscle until Hannibal spoke calmly and carefully.

“My apologies, Jack. I was not thinking clearly.” The wendigo frowned down at himself and sighed, “I'm sorry, Will.”

“What the hell just happened?” Jack demanded, obviously shaken up more than he'd care to admit.

“What was that weird glowy cloud thing? Please tell me someone else saw that too…”

Price and Zeller nodded in dumb shock to assure Beverly it wasn't her imagination.

Hannibal seemed content to stay curled around Will yet again to try and help his beloved lifemate cease his shell-shocked shuddering.

“I- I had hoped you wouldn't see that,” Will stammered out around a tongue that felt suddenly too dry for his mouth.

Will felt Hannibal’s strong disapproval trickle into the back of his mind as Will prayed with fierce desperation, _Please, something kill me now._

_Will, don’t be so hasty to give up the life which I have just protected._

Will buried his face in his hands as he just gave up with this whole situation; he was bonded to a moron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I give up trying to write serious fiction. I am just gonna embrace my penchant for the triple-threat Horror/Comedy/Romance genre~! I tried to make Love Is Thicker Than Blood serious. It failed spectacularly, I know. The next story arc in that particular series is gonna be more like this... and maybe more dark than this? Huh.  
> Laters, yo.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's probably only one more part of this thing as of right now... I'm actually really sad about that. Are you guys sad too? *helplessly fishes for approval* This was a fun little thing I wrote on a whim (like most of my stuff is, truly) and I think I've gotten nearly everything out of it I wanted. D:  
> Darn.  
> My other wendigo fic has a part two now, by the way. I'm kind of blending more of my natural commentary into my writing style with that one from now on. Basically, it's like this but not so random maybe. Maybe. And Will actually gets a case, whoa! I'm curious which tone you guys like better in my fics: dark humor or sober darkness? (I don't have many examples of each up here to compare though, whoops.)

“Let me get this straight,” Jack started dubiously, “You are a wizard-”

“Witch,” Will interrupted absently. Jack took a quick and utterly obvious second to stare intently at Will's chest before he pressed on.

“You somehow got magically married to your psychiatrist. And now the two of you are quite literally stuck together?”

“That sums it up nicely…” Will had studiously left out any mention of Hannibal not being human anymore. Jack seemed to accept Hannibal leaping on him like a possessive wolf had been a side effect of their new bond without Will even having to suggest it. That spared his conscience some; no outright lying.

“Whoa, how long have you two been dating?” Beverly asked in astonishment.

Hannibal wrapped himself around his new lifemate like a tender and possessive straitjacket.

“Since earlier this evening,” Hannibal all but purred, glad to be able to abandon pretense, in this one matter at least. Will choked at the blasé reply.

“You two just skipped the dating thing and eloped? Hey, Jack; you ruined the honeymoon! Not cool, man,” Brian frowned disapprovingly at their boss.

“Congratulations though, guys! I love weddings!” Jimmy exclaimed semi-belatedly, looking for all the world like a teary-eyed, exuberant puppy. Will didn't have the heart to snap at him because of that expression, which was unfortunate because Will _really_ wanted to.

Apparently, Jack lacked any positive notions about the situation.

“This is beyond unethical! You just married your _patient_ , Dr. Lecter!”

“Will was never my patient, Jack. We merely had friendly conversations.”

“Uh huh. Friendly meaning what, exactly?”

Hannibal gave Jack a mild glare and Will almost smirked; Jack was treading dangerous waters here, challenging Hannibal's impeccable reputation. With the corpse of one of Hannibal's many victims right nearby though, Will stepped in at last.

“When you had Hannibal clear me for fieldwork I practically hated him, you know.” Will wisely didn't mention Hannibal's budding obsession with him back then, but Will would rather he kept his job right at the moment. He really did enjoy catching these killers. Most of the time. When he wasn't seeing horrible visions from those same killers. Will decided to abandon that particular train of thought before things got too depressing.

“…Fine,” Jack grit out and stalked away, clearly sounding anything but.

Will had only the barest of warnings before he felt a torrent of feelings from Hannibal, who pressed up even tighter behind him. Hannibal was practically high with pleasure from besting the next highest alpha in a fight, made even more thrilling because he had done so in front of his beloved. Will blanched as soon as he realized what was about to happen.

Three pairs of eyebrows met hairlines as Hannibal laved along Will's neck lustfully. Will tried batting strong wandering hands away to no avail. And the others just stood there and gaped like mounted fish. Great. Will didn't really expect his coworkers to have the least bit of shame though, truthfully. But God if it wasn't utterly embarrassing. There was only one thing that could possibly make his horny mate groping him in public (at a crime scene even!) any more mortifying and-

“Be disgustingly sappy newlyweds somewhere else. _Please_ ,” Jack's pained voice rang out from behind the entwined pair. Hannibal was torn between staking his claim in view of his opponent and taking Will safely home to do so. He settled for a bit of both. The undignified yelp of surprise Will gave upon being flipped around was captured by Hannibal's own mouth in an impressive round of tonsil hockey.

Then Hannibal slung his stunned beloved over one shoulder, a hand firmly on his ass to keep him secure and still, and nonchalantly walked away.

“Damn, I wish I had recorded that,” Beverly remarked wistfully, ignoring Brian and Jimmy’s slightly ill faces to continue with cheer, “I know what I'm dreaming about tonight!”

“They're cute and all but that was just plain creepy.”

“Who knew Dr. Lecter was such a hornball? ...On second thought, no one answer that. Ever.”

_+_

“Ah! F-for a second there I- ooh- thought you were going to take me right there!” Will gasped, arching underneath Hannibal to show he wanted more.

“I was,” Hannibal said with a level of bluntness that almost hurt. He also decided right then that Will being able to think enough to string together sentences was an affront to his person.

Will's hands gripped the top edge of Hannibal's ebony headboard hard enough to leech all color from them as he suddenly needed way more effort to remain upright. If there was ever a way to have violent wall sex while still in a luxurious bed, his wendigo had found it. With a keening wail and a magic haze suddenly filling the darkness around their coupling bodies, Will decided he would stop trying to find things Hannibal couldn't do, so long as some of them pertained to mindblowing fuck sessions. He wouldn't quit trying to stop the relentless punning Hannibal seemed all too fond of though. Will Graham was a man with standards, thank you.

When Hannibal shuddered and stilled deep within him yet again, Will's mind snuck in a terrifying realization even through his own orgasm. Oh shit. He was bonded to a powerful inhuman entity. While he couldn't be impregnated by a human, and it was unlikely even with another witch, Will wasn't so sure whether his incredibly enthusiastic wendigo bondmate was exempt.

The profiler nearly had a mental breakdown over the resulting conundrum: if he told Hannibal to use a condom next time (which appeared to be happening in ten seconds) to prevent pregnancy he would inadvertently reveal his heretofore secret ability to conceive. Will knew all bets were off should that happen.

Hannibal's bond-gifted insights into his lifemate’s mental workings took the choice out of Will’s hands with startling finality.

“Will…?” Hannibal sounded so in awe at the concept’s possibilities Will couldn't even yell at him about how he wasn't ready yet. Or ever, really. Not going to go there. Will liked his temporary sanity. “Will?”

The witch quite unsuccessfully tamped down the thrill he felt for rendering Hannibal speechless. “…Will?” Okay, never mind the thrill anymore; he might have just broken his bonded.

“You can stop calling, I'm still here,” Will grouched.

“Is it true, dear one? We could have a child from this union?”

“Unless I can convince you to stock up on condoms, yes,” Will affirmed reluctantly.

The next second there was a rush of emotions and impressions on a direct route to Will's brain from Hannibal's. Some of the more memorable thoughts running through his bonded's mind included gems like _Going to destroy every condom I find from now on-!_ , _Perfect: even_ Jack _has to agree to maternity leave_ , and some vague visions of Will looking stereotypically barefoot and pregnant in Hannibal's house. It was all very charming, except their previously-in-progress sex marathon was put to an abrupt halt.

What? No. No _way_. Will wasn’t about to let this one go.

“What are you _doing_? Shouldn't you be screwing me more, not less?” Hannibal gently extricated himself from Will just enough to lay him down under the rich covers. “Hannibal, you-!” There were so many colorful expletives on the tip of Will’s tongue he couldn’t speak for a brief time. “I finally don't mind you taking advantage of me and you _stop_?”

“You're much too skinny to support a healthy child, Will.”

Will slapped a rueful hand over his face when he realized this situation was truthfully hopeless. He was apparently going to be indulging in plenty of people-steak in the near future, courtesy of one overprotective greed machine. A pleased rumble against his back at that thought was the proverbial final nail in the coffin for Will, so he just groaned and settled down to sleep.

Fuck this; he’d deal with life in the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All of the merpeople AUs are happening in my brain right now. Or non-AUs, because I like those haha. I need to stop but I don't. XP
> 
> Plot bunny conversations wanted y'all. I need that in my life. Or requests. How does that work? @_@ Requests sound fun. No guarantees but I want to try and fulfill your dreams~


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kitsunegirl911.tumblr.com/
> 
> Hey all! I have a tumblr side blog for my AO3 audience (if you read my fic on FF.net as well you’re still welcome, hahaha) now, so people can interact with me better about what they want to see, or what they like/dislike, as well as a list of plots I'm working on. Ask away!
> 
> Maybe I could post more of my fics if people chatted with me about 'em on this tumblr blog? I have a ton of stories going, but I enjoy discussing my writing process with people; I work best brainstorming while talking to someone. (I even do that one-sided brainstorming conversation thing, lol. I feel kinda aimless talking to air, but not to a listening person, even if they just smile and nod... XD) But I have basically no one to talk fic with. D:
> 
> I'm sort-of taking back the 'chapter five is the last chapter' thing. It's the fic that never ends. X3 I’m going to try out making series universe type things, as in this particular part of the story is over, but other stories can pop up if I get ‘story sparks’. Basically, if I can think of something to happen with what I’ve set up in the first series’ universe story, I’ll write it as a sequel/prequel/what have you. You guys are free to suggest stupid little events, mini-plots, and whatnot for this series or any new story series. In fact, I would totally be able to write better if we all had fun with it~ :3

Will wondered why he ever thought things would be even _remotely_ normal or understandable in the morning hours. He awoke to the heavenly scents of breakfast foods and coffee, only to remember the prior night’s revelations. Will stalled as long as he possibly could while he got dressed for the day. Hannibal had set out an outfit that was quite clearly meant for him to wear. …He also whisked Will's clothes from yesterday to parts unknown that the profiler hoped didn't involve an incinerator.

Thankfully, Will was an accomplished witch, and conjured up a new set to change into. He had learned the hard way to avoid conjuring clothes onto one’s self if at all possible. Will wasn't even sure how those super-tight jeans were physically possible, even with magical help. He was only in them for but a brief moment, but he had nightmares about being cruelly pinched in unfortunate places for weeks afterwards…

Eventually Will gave up ignoring the bedroom door and went downstairs. If he wanted to maintain any sort of dignity today, he couldn't start out by being carried to breakfast in loving arms by his wendigo bondmate. When Will arrived at the kitchen’s threshold he was totally unsurprised to see a veritable breakfast feast in the works. Hannibal, he was pleased to note, looked mildly disgruntled that his plot to get Will into classier clothes had met an unexpected failure. Will was too caffeine deficient to react too harshly when he overheard _Lost the battle but not the war_ in the back of Hannibal’s mind. Will settled with a bleary-eyed glare in the wendigo’s general direction. Hannibal cheerfully passed a clear coffee mug to Will before instructing him to head to the dining room and make himself comfortable. Will was annoyed that he couldn't think of a way to feel uncomfortable in Hannibal's lavish dining room with a cup of perfect coffee, until he actually sat down.

At all the dinners he'd been invited to the room had been lit with ambient lights that seemed no brighter than candles. Now though, he could see that damn painting better than ever. Well. Hannibal's own poncy décor allowed Will to disobey a request. It felt fitting. Why did he have what amounted to classical bestiality porn hanging on the wall directly opposite his favored guest’s chair? Will considered bringing the subject up to Hannibal but quickly stomped out that train of thought before it could begin to form. In the long list of things Will Graham never wanted to experience, hearing his bonded explaining Leda and the Swan while making the truly frightening face he was sure to bring out just for the occasion was right at the top.

In an attempt to distract his wendigo from doing just that, Will channeled all of his current discomfort into Hannibal's psyche that he could. Will realized, somewhat belatedly, his life was now truly screwed up enough that his major act of defiance was to disobey an order to be _comfortable_ , of all things. Hannibal hurried into the dining room not two seconds later in concern, carrying an armful of carefully prepared dishes.

“Oh my dear Will, I didn't mean to make you starve from the wait,” Hannibal apologized with aching sincerity.

If he wasn't terrified of his previous nightmare coming true, Will might have tried to correct his bonded that no, he was not uncomfortably hungry, just weirded out. He said nothing.

Hannibal proudly rattled of the names of every dish he set down before his beloved witchy profiler, though Will just zoned out and wondered why anyone would bother renaming breakfast food to be fancy, of all the things to choose from. No one except crazy wendigo serial killers would conceivably be coherent enough in the early morning to even give a flying fuck about what their breakfast was called- it was _breakfast_.

When Hannibal finished his veritable speech’s worth of titles, Will expected the man to sit down himself and join in. To Will's absolute horror, Hannibal went back to the kitchen to get more.

_Please just have forgotten the salt!_ Will begged mentally, but the happy buzz of emotion from Hannibal's end of the bond pretty much ensured that he hadn't.

_+_

“Ugh, Hannibal… I seriously can't,” Will protested for what must've been the fifteenth time, and Hannibal predictably ignored him for the fifteenth time. Will had eaten more that morning than he'd ever eaten before at one sitting in his entire life, and since that included Thanksgiving as a child, that was really saying something. “I'm not a wendigo, I can't just-” Hannibal's hand froze midway through bringing the next forkful to his precious mate’s lips and Will knew he'd made an awful mistake.

In the next instant, Hannibal brought up memories of the raging hunger that Will's magic had freed him from, and let his past experiences bleed into Will's shriveled appetite. The reaction was immediate and Hannibal was all too pleased; his dearest Will practically forced the offered fork into his mouth and out of the wendigo's hand.

His Sweet William was finally eating as healthily as he should! Hannibal could only watch on in awe and with what he knew (and didn't care) was a most hopelessly besotted expression. Hannibal only moved to push the next courses within comfortable reach of Will's desperately searching hands. At this rate, they could try for a child in no time at all… Hannibal sighed blissfully at that thought, before cooing endless endearments and sweet nothings to the beloved mate he was _so_ very proud of.

_+_

Alana stood with plenty of uncertain fidgeting on Hannibal's front doorstep, hesitant to knock and discover something she didn't want to see. Jack avoided the subject as if actively suppressing a traumatic experience, but Will's lab technician coworkers happily told her she could find Will at Hannibal's house, as the profiler had been granted a long overdue vacation. That in itself wasn't what made Alana so concerned, in fact she was quite happy Will could spend his days off with a friend. Alana was more worried about the discomfited vibe from Price and Zeller mixed with Katz’s creepy new heights of mischievous glee. Something wasn't what it seemed; whether anyone knew the true details or not, Alana wanted to confront the two men herself.

Her determination renewed, Alana knocked firmly. As usual, Hannibal's door was opened by the man himself, impeccable as ever as he invited her in.

“Welcome, Alana. I was just making lunch; I assume you are looking for Will?” Alana nodded slowly, a bit taken aback by her mentor’s open happiness, and wondered to herself what kind of person had lunch so early. “If you'll just follow me…” Hannibal prompted, leading Alana into an elegant sitting room, in the middle of which was Will, dozing on a lavish couch before a merrily crackling fire.

Alana relaxed a bit. Will must've slept through breakfast, and that's why Hannibal started lunch so early. She was being paranoid. Alana walked around the couch to join Will by the fireplace’s soothing warmth, only to pause yet _again_.

“He looks pregnant!” she squeaked out, a bit louder than intended, staring gobsmacked at Will's distended middle.

“Not yet,” Hannibal's oddly pleased voice rang out right behind her; obviously she wasn't as alone as she had thought. Alana felt unease creeping back into her mind. Hannibal was astute as always and looked suitably contrite as he offhandedly commented, “Didn't the others tell you? Will is magically bonded to me for life. Married, if you will.”

“H-Hannibal?” Alana questioned softly, taking a step away from her mentor and back towards Will’s snoozing form protectively, “Hannibal, you're delusional…” she realized aloud with palpable dread, “You can't just kidnap Will and force him into your personal fantasy!”

Hannibal was positively incredulous. This was a time for congratulations, not wild accusations!

“Alana, I assure you, I am not suffering from any kind of psychotic break.” The wendigo took a quick stride forward to better check on his beloved lifemate's continued state of peaceful repose, only to be blocked bodily by Alana. Only thoughts about the woman's admirable virtues that set her above most of humanity spared Alana an outright hostile reaction for that tresspass. That, and Will had finally been awoken by the commotion, and Hannibal wasn't sure him attacking someone Will cared about was a welcoming first sight. At least not until Will knew _why_ ; an attempt at trying to explain things after the fact would seem too much like a rationalization for irrational actions. Hannibal was _anything_ but irrational.

“Alana?” Will asked with a yawn, “What's going on here?” He sat up with the slow, dazed movements characteristic of the newly-awoken, and then dumbly traced the path of Alana’s gaze to his visibly less stuffed stomach.

“Will!” Alana cried with alarm, “We've got to get you out of here!”

“Wha…?” Will managed, sincerely proud of himself for retaining the ability to express his confusion with passable human speech right then. The self-praise woke him a bit more, as did Alana’s next words, which revealed both her point of concern along with the source of Hannibal's super rare moral crisis. Seriously, though. If Will had to hear one more stirring rendition of the ‘To be or not to be’ monologue repeat in his bondmate’s lofty head, edited for their precise situation of course, Will was going to re-kill Shakespeare somehow.

“Hannibal thinks you guys have gone through some occult marriage ritual!”

Will grimaced. “Whoa, hey. ‘Occult’ is taking it a bit too far. It wasn't that kind of bonding… Mostly.” The profiling witch paused there and rubbed the back of his neck in rather telling self-consciousness. 

Alana noted her friend’s somewhat hazy tone and delusional comment, putting the pieces together with a gasp. Alana tried to look at Will's pupils for abnormal reactions in order to double check her preliminary hypothesis, but as usual, Will's phobic aversion to eye contact ran true. Technically, she didn't even know how Will's eyes looked _normally_ to have some sort of reliable comparison, but Alana felt she had to at least give a token attempt. Trying to do so, albeit fruitlessly, helped ease her sickened guilt into something more manageable.

Alana whipped around to point an accusing finger at Hannibal. “You drugged him! I can't believe this, Hannibal!”

Will stepped forward then, taking a breath before he tried to prove to Alana that he was a sane, responsible adult, goddamnit, when he inadvertently caught a whiff of the heavenly smells wafting out from Hannibal's kitchen. Will dropped his face into his hands with a put-upon groan.

“Hannibal. I'd appreciate it if you stopped making me feel hungry so that I can sort this mess out,” Will grumbled through his hands as he tried with monumental effort to fight the pull of his borrowed wendigo hunger.

 Hannibal was ready to protest with some eloquent argument, but he received a baleful glare from his not amused bondmate before a single carefully crafted word could roll off his tongue. Hannibal relented with a pout instead- _I do_ not _pout, Will_ \- and abruptly, the profiling witch could focus again. “Thanks,” Will muttered offhandedly to his bonded, and then turned to Alana with the kind of grim determination clear on his face that usually preceded someone informing a person their mother had just died. “It's a long story…”

_+_

Alana gaped and blinked dumbly for a _very_ long minute after Will had run out of details that he could actually share without utter mortification killing him on the spot. Will worried he was exerting some heretofore unknown magic quirk that resulted in temporarily breaking the minds of those he cared about; first Hannibal, now Alana… If Winston was next, it would be a good clue that the universe kind of really hated one Special Agent William Graham. It'd been that kind of week.

Will scratched absently at the fabric covering his belly to have something to do that distracted him somewhat from the silent tension that was hanging thick in the air, but then Will paused mid-skritch.

“Oh hell, my clothes don't fit right anymore-” he cursed, and yet again, several things happened at once that Will wished hadn't taken place _in front of other living people_. Will unthinkingly plucked at and tugged up on the bottom hem of his now too-tight shirt, Hannibal naturally honed in on the revealed peek of Will's pale tummy pudge like his eyes were magnetized, and the next thing anyone knew, Alana had Hannibal's front door curtly slammed in her face, not two seconds after being shoved semi-gently through the doorframe.

Alana struggled mightily to resist looking in through the windows to see what actions that were making those rather fascinatingly pornographic sounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I also want to let y'all know that I intend to continue pretty much everything I post here; if I'm really unsure about whether I'm going to crush people's hopes, I just avoid sharing that fic. (And on the rare occasion I definitively put a work aside, I will clearly state so in the summary so people know what they're getting into. *cough*HelloHenry*cough*) That being said, I write nearly every hour of the day, so I only post a very small portion of my work here. ^_^U
> 
> Anemia makes typing on my ipod torture. But I'm trying! D: Sowwy I'm taking forevs... my physical and mental health has been wishy-washy lately. Not too serious, but still aggravating. I wanna wriiiiiiite, man; not be unable to move! >_O

**Author's Note:**

> By the way, y'all, I have a few more promising one-shot-ish fics in the works right now.  
> -Will and Hannibal get turned into wolves... and it's not crack. (GASP)  
> -Tokyo Ghoul crossover/fusion thing. Tsukiyama is totally Technicolor Hannibal. Hannibal (he is SO a ghoul, y'all) thinks he's just tacky. Will is the one-eyed ghoul about to be eaten. Hannibal, stop helping Will Graham, seriously.  
> -A HanniSuperLock fic set in a living house a la Rose Red. (This one is unrepentantly crack, seriously written crack, but yup.) I swear HanniSuperWhoLock is a thing now. Note the lack of 'Who' in the premise of this one.
> 
> I hope you guys are enjoying this romp as much as I am, haha! :3


End file.
